


Sexy Gay Fun Times, starring Sean Patrick Flanery and Norman Reedus

by dramady, jeck



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), Real Person Fiction
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-28
Updated: 2011-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-19 20:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean wasn't gay. He just had a list of dirty things he liked to do to Reedus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sexy Gay Fun Times, starring Sean Patrick Flanery and Norman Reedus

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: There's really no excuse for this. None.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.

Sean was lighting a cigarette when Reedus finally picked up the fucking phone. "You find the most fucking amazing crap on the internet," he said by way of hello, cig clenched at the corner of his mouth. He had the phone squeezed between his ear and his shoulder and one hand was on the computer mouse and one hand was … not. Just sayin'. (No! He wasn't jerking off. He was only _thinking_ about it.)

Before Norm could answer, Sean said, "you better fucking still own that [whatever the fuck that is](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v511/jexay/3PUPS/original_226080__1glgAnsIl2TpMu6XkQjF3Whp.jpg). Tutu or petticoat? What the fuck is that thing anyway?!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Norman pushed the phone closer to his ear. He was in bed, the sheets rustling and Sean could hear it over the line. Norman's voice was still gruff, grating like it was running through sandpaper before it slowly smoothed out. "What'd you find?" There were sounds over the line, something Sean would imagine would be Norman scrubbing his hand over his face.

"This ...fucking. You're in a -" And at this, Sean couldn't help but adopt what he liked to think was his poncy voice. "In a bathtub," he lilted. "Smoking and wearing a fucking petticoat. What the fuck, Reedus. What. The. Actual. Fuck."

A breathy chuckle came over the phone line. "Oh, you found _that_." Sean could hear the smirk there. "I did that for a friend of mine …" Silence for a moment, and then the sound of a lighter flicking then the deep inhale, then exhale of smoke. "So, uh … what'd you think?"

"What'd I think?!" Sean was almost shouting as he was wont to do, which brought Donut over, sniffing at his knee. "What'd I think." He tamped out his cigarette, all ash and filter, and ran a hand over his own face before he got quiet. "Do you still own that thing?"

More breathy chuckling and then another blowing of cigarette smoke while Norman shifted in bed, the blanket bunching up right at his middle. "Maybe? Why, Flanery? You wanna borrow it? I can take your picture but I don't think I can do the make-up," he teased.

"Oh, yes!" Sean lisped, another familiar voice. "I am _dying_ to borrow that. You better not have jizzed all over it, you horny devil, you. I want it. I _must_ have it. Please tell me you'll come take a picture of little old me. Fucker," he cracked, laughed and rolling his eyes. "Only you can carry that off. I swear on all the saints, you're … you're really fucking sexy. Shut it!" Russian, this time. "I vill keel you, you repeat that."

Norman's laughter died mid-way through Sean's speech. "You're secret's safe with me, man." There were more sounds of shifting, cloth to cloth to naked skin until Norman was propped on pillows the phone pressed to his ear. "That dress was handy … really hid that fucking boner I had. You can't tell from that picture … can you?"

"You are such a fucker," Sean groused. He had to lean forward, hunched over to squint at the screen, urging Donut away in the process. There was a long pause as he took in all he could.

Then realization hit.

"You were fucking with me! Asshole!," he declared. "Reedus is an asshole!"

Laughing at the other end of the line, Norman had to gasp for breath before he started to talk again. "I dunno, Sean … maybe I'm not fucking with you. You ever think of that? Maybe I got a woody when that shit was rubbing up against my dick …"

"Asshole." Sean needed to get another cigarette, stat. He lit up and peered at the picture again. "I bet you're a kinky bastard," he exhaled. "Probably like your dick wrapped in silk, too." Christ, why was that so fucking hot a thought?! That needed to go on the list. (The list: Things Sean Wanted to Do to Norman. WIth categories: Gay and Really Gay. Subcategories included but were not limited to: Kinky, Sexy, and Sensual.)

"Silk … yeahhh." Norman left a new hanging from his lipsafter stubbing out the old one. He pushed higher on the bed, the sheet freeing the rest of his body while he kicked it off him. "Silk feels good, doesn't it? But sometimes I like it better when it's rougher." Norm was riling Sean up and they both knew it.

It was too awkward sitting at his kitchen table to wang his head against it. But that's what Sean would have done. Just bash his forehead into the table because now all he could see what fucking Reedus spread out on a bed and tied up in fucking silk, or maybe even ….

"I can name one fucking thing I need that fucking rope for," he all but whispered in Connor's voice, clear as day.

Norman laughed and it was loud and boisterous as only Sean could make him laugh. "What is it with you and that stupid fucking rope?" It wasn't said in any voice but Norman's own. "Maybe you should come visit New York." He wasn't like Sean - Reedus didn't do voices.

"... bring some rope …" Norman lit his cigarette and was blowing, Sean would imagine, smoke rings in front of him while waiting for an answer.

"... you are a naughty boy, Norman Reedus," Sean answered, still in the Irish brogue. "What would wee Mingus think of Uncle Sean comin' to stay, eh? With thirty pounds of fuckin' rope?" Under the lilt, though, the question was serious, quiet.

"My kid loves you, man." Affection was clearly, clearly there. "He loves when you come over and teach him all that juijitsu shit you do." A pause for a puff of his cigarette then, "... and I like to watch you do your moves."

Was it stupid? Of course it was, but Sean puffed up anyway. Norm was probably fucking with him, but … ah, fuck it. He put his phone on speaker and scrolled to the calendar to see what he had coming up, nearly burning his fingers on his cigarette in the process - "Fuck!" Okay. "What've you got in two weeks?" No voices this time. This time, Sean was serious.

The smirk turned into a full-out grin and even that Sean would be able to tell. "I've got some time before I leave for Atlanta." A deep drag of the cigarette and then Norman was breathy as he said, "get your fucking ass over here, Flanery, and we'll see if I can find that skirt."

 _Christ_. "I guess I'm coming to New York City," Sean said and that was the end of serious. He put on his best Judy Garland. "And we'll go see a show! And you better kiss me on top of the Empire State Building!" He eyerolled _himself_ and hung up before he could hear Reedus laugh at him for being a fucking tool. Of course, he texted right after, saying he'd sent his flight info and Reedus better send the fucking car to get him, since Sean could never remember where he lived.

And just like that, two weeks later, he was on a flight to New York, hidden behind sunglasses and a "don't fuck with me" attitude. He had a carry-on and slid low in his seat to pass the time on his flight, even if his knee was bouncing with excitement/nerves/something that shouldn't be named, ahem. And when he landed, he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for baggage claim and the car that Reedus had promised to send.

Once in the car had driven through the tight streets of New York, Sean was given a key to Norman's apartment and there he'd found a note.

 _Gone to pick up Mingus. Taking him to Helena's._

 _Back soon._

 _N_

 _PS Check the bedroom._

"Meeeow, kitty cat," Sean lisped to himself. Yes, he did voices when no one else was around, fuck you. He tossed his bag at the entrance to the bedroom and then stopped cold.

The motherfucking _skirt_. Sean made an "oooooooooh" noise and all but tiptoed over, reaching out a tentative hand to touch the material. It was thin and gauzy and layered and shit and felt light in Sean's hand. Gradually he even picked it up and yeah, okay, whatever, he smelled it okay?! Fuck you sideways. It didn't smell much like anything, much to Sean's heart-heavy disappointment.

But when he heard the front door open, he dropped the thing like it was on fire. "Never - I repeat never - leave me alone in your apartment! I planted illicit sexual materials where you won't find them until the cops come and you're arrested for being a _prevert_! Norman Reedus is a fucking prevert!," he was shouting as he headed toward the living room. Then he grinned.

There Norman was calmly, slowly, putting his keys on the table and then he flicked his eyes sidelong to look, then smile back, at Sean. "You're right. I shouldn't have left you alone … forgot to tell you we lost Mingus's snake. I still don't know where the fucker is."

From his back pocket Norman pulled out a crushed box of cigarettes. He took two and lit them both up, walking toward Sean to hand him the other.

Sean was gay enough for Reedus that he let him put it right between his lips. He clenched it with his teeth. "The snake thing - very Freudian. Is that you wanting me to _find your snake?_ " Said with a big wide wink as he took in the other man. Fuck, he was _gorgeous_. It always caught Sean off-guard.

Norman did what he usually did when he was a little unsure of himself -- which not a lot of people catch on, really. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders til they were by his ears. "It'd be great to find the snake." Head down, eyes slow to lift up, Norman looked at Sean and smiled gently. "Driving me fucking crazy looking for it." It was all true. It was also all innuendo.

Sean was one of the few who knew not only when Norm was unsure of himself and when he was the most deadly flirt in the world. Sean was helpless against it. According to Sean, see, it was Norm who did the seducing the first time. Fucking come hither looks and suddenly he and Sean were naked and _gay, gay, gay_.

He took his cigarette between his fingers, then reached up and took Norm's, holding them away from them both as he stepped close enough to be toe to toe. "Aye," he whispered, eyes traveling between Norm's eyes and his mouth. "Give me a proper hello."

Sean would see the way that Norman, who usually played the badass motherfucker of all badass motherfuckers, shivered, letting the tension in his shoulders go before smiling back and nodding.

"Fuck you." Norm said and then he clasped his hand behind Sean's neck and pulled him to his lips.

The kiss was rough and there was a clack of teeth, dragging on lips, Norman nipping at Sean's bottom lip that tasted of cigarette smoke and the tingle of mint gum.

The hand with the cigarettes hooked behind Norm's head and the free arm slung around his waist, hand snaking up under Norm's shirt to touch warm skin, fingers digging in along spine. Sean's eyes were nearly closed, just open enough to see - to remind himself - that he was fucking kissing _Reedus_. Fucking Reedus. Sean's cock was already hard.

Then it got rough. It always did. Neither was sure who pushed who toward the nearest flat surface -- which happened to be Norman's table behind the sofa, cigarettes stubbed out along the way. It was the one he made himself with the distressed top from old scrapped wood and metal Norman found while they were making the second movie.

"Did you bring your goddamned rope?" Norman growled, pinning Sean to the side of the table, fisting his hands to push Sean's shirt up.

"What the fuck kind of pervert do you think I am?!" Sean gruffed right back. Of course he brought the rope. It had gotten him looks going through the security line, but fuck it. It wasn't much rope.

But that was neither here nor there. Now was for getting clothes off. It was surprising that something didn't rip. Shirts, then jeans hit the floor and Sean was touching, scratching, gripping whatever he could. Fucking Reedus.

The sound of their breathing was deafening because it was hitched and grated surrounding them both. Hands moved frantically over warm skin, lips sought to kiss and mouth and nip and then there were the whispered, desperate words neither of them would care to repeat outside of this moment.

They never did talk about _that_.

Norman's body was locked up with tension, both their hands on both their hard dicks, dry-fucking and humping against each other, rutting together until Norman grunted he was fucking coming. And when he came, his face was pressed at the side of Sean's throat, panting moist breaths and mumbling incoherent words against Sean's sweaty skin.

"Ah, fuck," Sean hissed. It had always been like that. Norman coming could make Sean come - just the fucking sound it it because Norman was always so fucking _quiet_. He had to bite back a shout as he came, teeth digging into Norman's neck as his body jerked through it.

No, they never talked about it, but it was fucking _brilliant_.

Sean collapsed as best he could, still holding Norman tight, and breathing. "Fuck _me_ ," he panted.

"That's the general idea." It was why they were here, right? Norman was sweaty and his hair clung in damp strands around his face, his eyes were in slits and his smile was all for Sean, warm and brilliant and widening like a child given permission to have dessert before dinner.

"Did you see it?" Norman was pointing toward the bedroom.

"You _told_ me to look for it, asshole. Of course I saw it." Trying, but not very hard, to look nonchalant, Sean shrugged. It wouldn't do to mention that he'd given it a good whiff. "So … you didn't lose it, huh?" Obviously. Where were his fucking cigarettes?

All Norman did was look at Sean using those narrowed, intense and deeply meaningful gazes he always did when he was being intent.

Then Norm grinned. "You wanna try it out?" The voice was gravelly and thick with lust and there wasn't anything that could send a fucking shiver up Sean's spine more than that sound. Jesus H. Fucking Christ.

Nicotine forgotten, Sean nodded, swallowing thickly. Yeah, he wanted to try it out. He waited for Norman to make the first move, letting his eyes wander over the lines of his body - muscled and thin. Who'da thunk that was Sean's type?

Pushing off Sean and then straightening up, Norman then grabbed the clothes on the floor, hugging them to his chest when he led the way. "Make sure you don't leave shit behind. I don't want the snake crawling into your clothes." He grinned over his shoulder at Sean before jogging with a laugh to the bedroom.

Once inside Norman dumped the clothes on the floor and then he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He was looking down at the poufy skirt, fingers toying with the material with his back toward Sean. "Do I need my camera?" The look was teasing and they both knew the question still hung in the air … who would wear it?

See, here was the thing. Reedus was still naked and he was on the bed with that fucking skirt thing. Sean dropped his clothes (only snake he wanted was a trouser-snake, har-de-fucking-har!). He liked to think he was graceful and he moved closer, still naked himself, mind you, and he stood right at Norman's feet, which put him right at cock-level and Sean put his hands on his hips. "I don't trust you with your fucking camera. You put it on."

"Why me?" Of course Norm's eyes got stuck between Sean's legs before they wandered over his body to look up and meet his eyes. "Why the fuck do I have to wear it?" From the way his dick twitched it was too obvious for Sean to know that Norman wasn't really appalled a the idea like he was leading on. "You just want me to do that shoot for you, huh?" He slapped a hand on Sean's hip, hand lingering for a moment before he pulled it back.

It stung, just enough to remind Sean that this was real and not a fucking wet dream. He caught Norman around the wrist before that hand got too far away and he tugged at him to stand up (though a blowjob sounded _really, really good_ ). "Make yourself pretty for me, nancyboy," he teased. No voices this time. This was Sean at almost his most natural state. Lucky Norman.

"Fuck. You." They were nose to nose and neither of them moved away or even blinked for a good long time. It was Norman who finally moved first. His cheeks were obviously deepening with the flush of heat from what they did in the living room. Now it was in anticipation of what was to come -- of what had been promised between the lines -unspoken - in the many phone conversations between that first phone call about the pictures to right here, right now.

Norman grabbed the skirt and he wasn't at all hesitant to stand naked right in front of Sean to put the fucking thing on. He slid it over his head like he was putting on a t-shirt, pushing the material by the frilly edges pulling it over his lean torso until his dick disappeared under it and the thing sat snug around his waist.

"There." Norman stood with his legs apart, his arms stretched up and out over his head. Fucking V for victory and it always made Sean grin.

There was a reason why Sean always joked around about Norman being queer.

And why he always thought to himself that Norman Reedus was fucking _beautiful_. Only he could make that thing look … almost natural and good.

Taking a step back, he sucked in a breath between his teeth, looking, eyes roaming up and down the body he was staring at. It was Murphy and Norman all at once and Sean loved them both. He twirled his finger in the air - turn around, Reedus. His own personal ballerina.

Norman frowned. "I'm already wearing the fucking thing." He put a finger in the air and drew a circle around his head. "You walk around me you lazy fucker." The words obviously belied how Norman felt because the blush on his cheeks deepened as he embarrassingly shifted from foot to foot making that skirt swish back and forth around his knees.

"Now you get all bossy? Fuck you back," Sean said, but his voice was quiet, pupils dilated. "You already have the fucking thing on, do the whole fucking trip, you pansy." Them were fighting words, he knew and Sean grinned, reflexes ready. "Lemme see your ass."

"Jesus. Fucking. Christ." Norm mumbled under his breath while he cut a sharp look at Sean. They both knew who could kick whose ass in here so, begrudgingly, Norman slowly pirouetted. The rough material of the damn petticoat rustling sounded so loud at it was so goddamned hot.

Only after he was done was Sean cursing himself for not getting his phone and taking pictures - for his eyes only, fuck you. He'd never been gay in his whole life. He liked chicks and boobs and pussy, just ask Benz. Sean had all but sexually harrassed her. But over twelve years ago, he'd met Norman Fucking Reedus and his whole world had shifted on his axis.

Sean was a dramatic fucker, screw you. But it was true. And Reedus still did. He made it hard for Sean to breathe and made his skin prickle.

He also gave Sean a hard-on that was harder than any chick had ever achieved. When Norm was done moving, Sean caught his wrist again and tugged at him to come closer, chest to chest. "Should I get the rope?" He asked, voice low and hot.

There was a lot of slow but heavy breathing and it was like a stare-down between them. They were pressed together that Sean would still be able to feel Norman's hard-on through the layers and layers of the fucking skirt.

Norm never did voices. That was all Sean's thing. But when he spoke the brogue slipped because Flanery and Reedus were Connor and Murphy and too much like wearing second skin. "Get your stupid fucking rope." Norman was breathless.

Sean's grin grew pointed and his eyes darkened. That voice was the kicker and when he stepped back, he knew Norm could see his erection, hot and hard, jutting from his body.

His bag wasn't too far away; he squatted down, and rummaged through, pulling out and holding up a small coil of black rope (was there any other color?). Then he stood and turned to look at Norman as he came closer, a step at a time. He liked to think he was like a big, dangerous cat (fuck you if you laugh). "Hands over your head."

It was a very established running joke. Troy said it first. That once the cameras were rolling was when Reedus turned all heterosexual. They said it a lot because it was true. Outside of that, when it was just _them_ Norman was more the cat but the tame kind. He liked to hug, kiss the guys on the cheek, rub up to them like a fucking kitty. Maybe that was why Sean petted him so much.

Norm whimpered. It wasn't loud but enough that Sean could hear. His arms stretched then they were over his head while his eyes were narrow slits raking slowly over Sean's naked body.

"Pretty, pretty princess," Sean drawled. But under the sarcasm was real, true lust and below that, adoration. Sean was his own form of cuddly, too, don't you forget. He was fiercely loyal and protective of those he cared about. Norman was in the innermost circle of that defense.

But that was on the back burner. For now, Sean uncoiled the rope and let the length fall from where he held an end, to the floor. Then he made quick work of binding Norman's wrists. Tight, but not too tight, still smiling. He urged Norman to tug and when he could without seeming to lose bloodflow, Sean walked him the few steps back, til he fell back on the bed, then Sean even crawled over him and urged him higher, straddling his hips so he could tether Reedus to the headboard.

When that was done, he took a few kneed steps back and looked down at the sight. "Christ," he gritted. And this time, he remembered his phone, fetching it from his jacket pocket and poising himself over Norm again and he started taking pictures.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Norman's eyes widened and he twisted on the bed. "That better not get to Troy and Rocco, you asshole!" The threat meant shit because Norm was nicely tied up.

"Calm yourself, Reedus," Sean drawled, rolling his eyes before he tossed his phone back at his bag. He had no intention of showing anybody any of this, but Norman didn't need to know that. Maybe it wouldn't hurt for Norm to worry a little bit. Heh.

After the phone was gone, Sean sat on his heels , straddling Norman's calves, and he fisted over his cock a few times. "I should come all over you, make you all fucking dirty."

The touch and those words, as Sean would come to expect, made Norman writhe and make all sorts of sounds. He was panting, too, chest heaving, the skirt bunched up around his waist that he wasn't able to see what it was that Sean was doing -- but fuck could he _feel_ it.

"Fuck, Sean ... Fuck!"

Ah, there were very few things that were more musical to Sean's ears than Norman Reedus in the throes of fucking passion. He pulled his hand off and smoothed the skirt back down Norm's legs and wrapped his hand this time around his own cock, stroking slowly, eyes locked on his lover's (fuck you! Fuck you with barbed wire if you laugh, but that's how Sean thought of Norman Reedus, okay? Fuck you!) flushed and gorgeous face. "Come all over you," he growled. "Pretty fucker."

Norman would have a fucking hard time denying how much Sean affected him. There were these lustful noises he made that only Sean could pull from him, motions he only did when Sean was around and doing this shit. Twisting, the binds strong enough to hold him still, Norm could only buck his hips and growl. "Do it. Fucking do it, you sick, fucking pervert. Jizz all over my pretty skirt, hmm ..." Norm egged on.

Skirt? Fuck that shit! Not the skirt. Sean wouldn't admit to anyone how he wanted to come on Norman's _skin_. His fucking pretty skin. Maybe even his face, though that might piss Reedus off. That idea made Sean grunt out a laugh as he sped up his stroking. Every expression that crossed Norm's face, Sean tried to save in the back of his head for later, when they couldn't hook up, when life got in the way. "Who's calling who a pervert, huh? Pervert."

"I'm not the one whose always talking about s-s-sssex!" Norman's eyes darkened and the last word he said all grated and shit because he was _so hard_ under that skirt that it tented right above where Sean sat on Norm's legs. "You gonna come?" It was groused, still ragged from panting so hard. "You gonna come all over me, you fucker? Do it! Fucking do it!" Maybe right over the fucking tattoo of his and his father's name. Soil him. Dirty him up like Sean promised.

 _Christ_. One day, Sean would coerce Norman into doing a personal video just for Sean (thatt needed to go on the list). Where he talked like that and did sexy shit, just like that. Of course, he couldn't tie himself up by himself, Sean's mind reminded him, but that wasn't here nor there. Sean's breathing got more shallow and he groaned, closer to coming. He kneed himself up higher on Norman's body as he felt it ramping up. "Fucker!," he all but groaned, then he was coming, watching it spurt over Norman's chest, even his chin. Ha. _Haaaa_.

Of course Norman was staring at Sean's cock but as soon as he came -- they'd both seen this many times over -- his eyes flicked to Sean's face. There was a slight smirk on his lips, brief, right before Norman licked slowly around his lips but then it stayed and he looked like he was quite pleased with himself for making Sean fucking lose it. "Fuck you," Norman growled then he almost bucked Sean right off him. He was goddamned hard, too, lest Sean forget.

Well ….

Sean was still panting, but that was definitely an idea, wasn't it? He sat there, hand still on his flagging dick, and he looked back at Norman as he waited to stop hearing his heart beating in his ears. He was getting fucking old to come so much!

He could see the tenting of the fucking skirt and he smirked, eyes skating back up to Norm's face. Back and forth, back and forth, before settling on the tenting. Then he flicked it.

"Ow, you goddamned motherfucker!" Norman kicked his legs out and still it didn't unseat Sean. He had fucking strong thighs - fuck it! He had strong fucking _everything_!

Norman was groaning and it was obviously not from the pain because, shit, what was a little pain between the two of them? It was more because he was desperate and Sean could see it in his eyes. He wanted to come. He wanted to come so fucking bad. "Fucker! Do me! Ah, _fuck_!"

"Quit yer bitchin'!" Sean was quick to reply. Then he traced jizz-covered fingers along Norman's mouth as warning before he slipped them between those lips. Fucking sexy lips. He didn't say anything because it would've all sounded like porn dialogue. But Norman was a smart cookie. He'd figure it out.

It might have looked like porn, too, the way that Reedus stared at Sean when he parted his lips and he took those fingers in his mouth. He bobbed his head as much as he could, sucking, slipping his tongue between fingers and licking all the fucking come off. He didn't stop either, humming pleasantly while his eyes fluttered closed, "mmm ..." Just like Sean was a rare fucking delicacy. "Mmm ... "

"Christ," Sean muttered again, and he felt his whole body flush. That deserved a kiss. He pulled his fingers free and bent down, doing his best to bruise Reedus's mouth with his own. That put the angle about right too and he reached back.

This was the part he tried not to think too much about. And he gasped into Norman's mouth when he pushed the fingers inside himself. The things he did for Fucking Norman Reedus.

Norman had a vivid imagination. He was an artist after all. Sean knew that Reedus didn't have to see to know what the fuck was going on down below. Sean's sounds between their pressed lips would be proof enough.

There was biting, tugging of lips, hard then soft, rough then gentle while Norman rocked his hips up to try and press his erection at Sean. He was growling low, too. Turning impatient and desperate. "Ride me you goddamned fucking asshole!" He rumbled, face flushed and sweaty, eyes dark and intense.

Inwardly, Sean gave thanks for Norman and his damned fucking asshole dirty mouth. It eased the embarrassment of Sean being a fucking homo for him. Plus, this finger shit had never gotten comfortable, okay? Just being honest.

But it was necessary (and damn it but they'd learned _that_ shit the hard way). Two fingers now and Sean growled right back, digging his teeth into Norman's lower lip. "Fuck off and be fucking _patient_ , ya bastard!"

Norman gasped and then he was chasing after Sean's lips while grumbling in a low scratchy voice, "Fuck you! You're not the one with the fucking hard-on that could bust through this fucking dress!" More hip-bucking because apparently Sean needed to get the point.

Oh, Sean got the _point_. Just as he somehow ended up getting the _point_ a lot. If you get his meaning. How the fuck that happened was beyond him. Well, not _technically_ , ahem.

Anyway. "Talk to me when you don't have dried jizz on your chin, homo-sexshual," Sean gasped, having hit a particularly sensitive spot inside himself. _Fuck_. Okay. He pulled his fingers out and pushed at Norman's skirt, pushing up and up, ha! Right over Reedus's face. Take that, asshole. Then he could do what he needed to do without being stared at. He grasped the hard-on and rubbed the pre-come all over it, then he spit on his own hand and used that too. Then he was _getting the point_.

Har-dee-fucking-har-har. _Shit_.

There was a series of very colorful words that Norman felt the need to share with Sean while his face was covered up and his hands bound. He kept writhing until Sean was sinking over his cock and it made him moan low and loud and vibrating. "Fuck! Oh, fuck!"

And then … everything in Norman stilled -- his breath, his movements -- quiet with nothing but a gasp of breath when the head of his cock breached Sean's tightness. Then, he started to tremble while a soft groan came from under the material pulled over his head.

When Sean was - ahem - sitting on Norman's hips, he finally pulled the skirt down. He was breathless again and he knew he was flushed and this was as close as he got to being really, really vulnerable.

(If Norman chanced to really laugh at him - cruelly laugh - it would crush Sean beyond recognition. He knew this and he tried not to think about it. But now, with Reedus's cock up his ass, the _point_ was hard to miss, wasn't it?)

He couldn't catch his breath, caught in Norman's gaze. Ah, fuck.

Like always, this was about the time when the usual order of things in their world would shift. Now that Sean could see Norman's face, he'd gaze upon a much different man. The expression was intense, heated, lips parting for breath right before he would rumble out a few choice words. "Move. God damn! Fuck! _Move_!" But then Norman was already pulling back, sinking in the mattress and then he was humping upward, thrusting into the heat.

"I thought you hated horses," Sean had the wits to gasp, but he had his hands braced on Norman's chest and he started to move, as ordered (ordered! Of all the balls!). Fucking Reedus. "Fucking sit still and fucking … just stay still." This was … he had a cock in his ass, okay? Fuck!

Funny how Sean was the one who always talked about sex but it was Norman who seemed to love to get his fuck on with anyone -- male or female. But then again Sean wasn't just _anyone_ , so even then Norman had been uninhibited when they got to this -- uninhibited and fucking insatiable.

That meant that, no, he didn't stop moving.

" _You_ fucking stop!" Norman told Sean. (Ordered. _Again_!) "Just …" A strong shudder rippled through Norm's body that made him shut his eyes tight and his hands in the binds fisted and tugged. "Fuck! Just kneel up …" Norman needed to _thrust_. He needed to _move_. He needed to god damn fucking _come_!

"When did you get so fucking _bossy?_?" Sean asked, flushed and panting and more than a little embarrassed, okay?! Fuck! He was being ordered around like a girl! He did as he was told, though, and he felt the muscles in his legs twitch as he moved up enough to let Norman _move_. Christ.

Sean would know, though, that Norman sometimes liked to take over, take control back when usually it was Sean who called the shots, Sean who'd be the unofficial spokesperson.

"Fuck!" Each stroke was tight and hot and rough and as much as Norman wanted to fuck Sean as deep as he could up the ass, he couldn't much move with his hands bound as they were. He growled in frustration, hips rocking up to get himself as deep inside Sean as he could. "Fuck! Fuck!"

What a filthy mouth Reedus had! Sean grinned more and more with each "fuck." He was a dick for a reason (and in this position, which was getting better by the moment, he didn't call himself a fucker.) "Wish your hands were untied, dontcha?" He asked, and it came out a little breathy. "Say please."

"Nooo!" Norm growled, his face flushed, his eyes intense and fiercely glued with Sean's. "Let me go, you fucker!" His hands bound to the headboard tugged and pulled until it was obvious to Sean that Norm's wrists were chafed by the rope, skin reddened and raw. But then Norman's voice softened to an almost whisper, "c' mon, man ... let me go ...?"

It was as close to begging as Norm would get.

And yet, with all that, he didn't say _please_. So, Sean stopped stock-still, ass flush to Norman's hips and fuck if that dick wasn't deep enough that he could swallow and taste the fucking thing. Then he leaned forward, nose to fucking nose with Reedus, fingers sliding up his arms, "say _please_ , you asshole."

Norm just stared, breathing hard, his chest heaving slowly up and then down. His eyes were narrow slits, almost shut from the looks of it but Sean knew better. With flushed skin and reddened lips that Norm licked, he then spoke in a rough rumble, "please, you asshole." Then he chased after Sean's lips, biting down on the bottom pouty one.

It was pain and sharp pleasure all at once, just how Sean would never admit to liking it. He growled against Reedus's mouth and without looking, he untied the rope around his wrists. There. "Whiny baby," he jeered, grinning. And waiting.

"Shut the fuck up." Norm moved quickly, rolling them until Sean was under him, still with him inside that tight heat., the skirt bunched between them. Once he settled between Sean's legs, hips pressed to his ass, arms still wrapped under and around Sean did he begin to thrust hard and fast, cursing under his breath. "God damn, you're tight, you motherfucker."

Ah, endearments. How fucking sweet. It warmed Sean's cockles, not to mention, his soul.

But he couldn't think of that right at the moment, seeing how he was getting his ass _pounded_ '. He wasn't a lily-livered fragile thing, but Jesus Christ! He'd need to sit down at some point! "Next time," he gasped, "I fuck you."

"Blah, blah." There was laughter in Norman's voice but he didn't let up the thrusting, the movement. He then reached between them, lifting up, the rhythm faltering just slightly but only so he could squeeze his hand around Sean's hot and hard erection. "You like my dick up your ass," he reminded. How many times had Sean said that? Only to end up like this … under Norm or riding Norm? Ha!

"Fucker." Sean all but groaned it, his head falling back, eyes sliding shut. Had anyone every died from coming too much? This was what he wondered. He didn't want to die mid-gay-sex, even if he loved Reedus. "Christ."

"Lord's name," Norman had enough presence of mind to joke about this, even chucking low right before he buried his face at the side of Sean's neck to nip at the skin behind his ear, breathing hard against Sean's sweaty skin.

"Maybe I don't - want you - to fucking come - yet." It was stuttered, whispered and gravelly, while Norman jerked Sean's cock too slow for the rhythm of his cock sliding in and out of Sean. "Maybe - you shouldn't - ah! C-come y-yet." Fuck yeah, he loved to torture Sean - kind of a payback for all those times that Sean would cut off Norm, or tease him, embarrass him. They both knew it.

And each time, Sean made a vow not to tease any more. To be good to his friend, to treat him kindly. Because Norman Reedus was a fucking _asshole_ bastard when he wanted to be. It didn't take long for Sean's body to feel like it was on _fire_ , tight strung like a cord pulled too tight. "Fucker!," he hissed again, through gritted teeth.

More breathy laughter and only because they both knew that Norm had Sean _exactly_ where he wanted him -- desperate and needy. There was a squeeze to his cock and the jerking-off stopped but Norman's thrusts only quickened, his breath shuddering gasps. "I'm fucking - aaah! Fuck!" He lifted up on a forearm to look at Sean's face. "C-coming …!"

Sean squeezed his eyes shut, centering his concentration not on the heat on his poor abused ass, not on his raging, aching hard on, but the feeling that he swore he could feel; Norman coming.

Shut the fuck up; he wasn't a girl, okay? He just - there was something intimate about it.

Then he opened his eyes to see Norman's face, see how fucking _gorgeous_ he was, post orgasm. "I hate you," he drawled because it was expected, but it was thin, Norman would be able to see right through it, to the _I love you_ underneath.

They stared at each other, something they usually didn't do when they made appearances or even when the casually see each other. These looks right now? Those were only fucking shared when they were together like this. Only like this.

"Fuck you!" Norman retorted and then he groaned loud - a moan that grated deep in his throat - coming deep inside Sean. He was trembling while he thrust a few more times and deeply, gasping each time he would pull his cock out to come in hot streams inside Sean. "Fuck … you …!"

Without even realizing it, Seam had his hands on Norm's shoulders, bracing and steadying him, eyes locked on his face. It was as if the whole world went quiet except for Norman's panted breathing.

Of course, that was when Sean hauled him down and kissed him. Of course.

Post-climax kisses still, obviously, startled Norman. He gasped and he didn't quite move his lips for a good few seconds before his brain caught up with what was happening and then he was kissing Sean _back_.

Norman's hand began to move, too, tugging on that hard cock in his fist, gasping against Sean's lips. "You wanna fucking come, man? Cos I'm thinking of leaving you like this." It was the same tease, as always - Reedus making Sean fucking _beg_ to get off.

There was the question. To be or not to be, because Sean might fucking die if he came a third time in what was it, ninety minutes? "Fuck you," he panted, feeling his body tighten more.

Already Norm's dick was flagging and slipping slowly out of Sean's body but still he force-thrusted while he tugged on Sean's dick. "Come," he pulled back to watch Sean's face. "This time I want to see it." Heat was in Norman's eyes.

"Trying to kill me," Sean groused, eyes rolling back in his head. Fucking Reedus. He panted and groaned like a cheap hooker (not that he knew what those sounded like!) and he fucking came, just like Reedus told him to. He felt his whole body jerk and hoped he didn't die.

"That's it," Norm crooned with his raspy voice right by Sean's ear. He kept stroking from root to tip in a tight grip like he knew (by now) how Sean liked it. "You're not dead yet ..." He said after the pulsing of Sean's hot dick subsided. "You know what that means … right?"

"I win the Best Fucked Ass prize?" Sean's sarcasm was buried in heavy breathing. "Fucking - it means I fuck you next time and you keep the fucking skirt on, you pansy." Never let it be said that Flanery wasn't good at rewriting history.

"Yeah, yeah. You win a god damned prize." Norman grinned and his expression was mixed pleased and lustful and naughty. "Means I get to fuck you again later. Boom!" He laughed while covering his mouth with his hand, his free one slipping under the skirt so that fingernails could drag over his skin to scratch.

"Fuck. You." Sean shoved at Norman to get him _off_ and out, praises be to Sodom. "Fuuuuck!" he shouted it, then he grinned over at Reedus. "Good to see you too, you randy gorgeous bastard."

Falling to his side on the bed, his fingers still scratching his skin almost raw at the way the skirt made his skin itch, Norman chuckled, grinning as his head hit the pillow next to Sean. "It's good to know you still miss me." Norm wasn't fooling anyone. He missed Sean, too, and the way his free hand moved to touch Sean's skin, let that hand rest on his chest, should be more than telling. "How long can you stay …?"

"You just confirmed it. You don't even read your fucking email." But Sean was grinning as he rolled to his stomach, chin resting on his fist so he could peer down and over. "Three fun-filled days, trying to find Reedus's fucking snake!" And his grin was wide and crooked as he imagined telling _that_ story to a convention crowd. _So Norm just got done fucking me and …_. No fucking way. But it was hilarious as shit to think about.

The look on Norman's face held pure understanding, knowing Sean well enough to know the thoughts that passed through his head. "You sick bastard." He slapped the still sweat-damp skin of Sean's back. "You're not telling anyone _that_!" But he was laughing. "... snake just might keep biting back."

"But it's such a fucking good story!"

Two hours later, they were sharing a beer and cigarettes, looking out the big windows of Norm's apartment, clad in only jeans. Food was calling their names soon, but it was quiet and Sean let it be quiet, something rare in and of itself. Then he turned, the better to observe Reedus, and stepped close enough that his chest touched Norman's bicep. He smiled, just a little.

"I know at least fifteen different ways to pin you right now," he noted. Subtext: _I'm really fucking glad to be up in your personal space._

Norman laughed and it was the kind that only Sean knew to draw out. His head fell back (pressing against Sean's shoulder), his eyes were nearly shut and he had to draw in gasped breaths before turning to look at Sean. "I know you do." His finger traced around Sean's lips because he had this habit of pouting it, knowing how it teased Norman, too. The act told Sean that he could be all up in Norman's space as he wanted. "That won't help you with the snake, though."

"You and your fucking _snake!_! I'll give you a snake -!" And with that, Sean showed Norman number seven from that list of fifteen. ot to mention finishing up the _other_ list. He needed to be more ambitious.

They did find the snake though. Or Sean did, when he went to pack his bag to leave. He may or may not have screamed like a girl, waiting for Norman to fetch the damned thing out.

It was time to go and he didn't fucking want to. Inside, he was pouting and kicking at the air like a little kid.

They were never cozy. You know? Like couple cozy? That wasn't them. But once they got to this point -- each time they got to this point -- Norm was the one who seemed to sense it easily, no matter how much Sean would try and hide.

From behind Sean, arms wrapped around him, strong, solid, warm. Then it was that remarkably sexy, rough voice that Norm used when he whispered in Sean's ear. "Next time," Norman's breath was hot against Sean's skin, "make a longer list."

Sean would get more inventive. "I'll bring my fuckin' rope," he said, head turned to the side to feel Norman's breath against his cheek. "When do you leave for Hotlanta?"

A sigh left Norm's lips before he pressed it right at the base of Sean's neck. "Couple weeks." Stubble caught on skin while his lips moved slowly up like that throat was a trail he had to follow. "Why? You in the mood to visit zombieland?"

Sean did _not_ shiver. He didn't. That would be unmasculine. No, he might have closed his eyes and grabbed Norman's wrists, but there was no shivering. "Only if I get to use the crossbow."

"I make no promises." Norm's forehead pressed to the back of Sean's neck. "But come and you'll see..."

Fucking Reedus. He made that sound like a porn movie come on line, but classier. _You want me to come see you? Really?_ , he thought. What a pansy thought. Quick, without giving himself, or Norman, time to think, he turned, pinning him to the wall, right beside the big fat chick painting. And he just looked, getting his fill. "Maybe I will," he said, feeling the way Norman's heart beat under his hand. It matched the rhythm of his own.

How gay was that?


End file.
